


Lost Property

by factorielle



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s03e04 Sateda, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-06
Updated: 2006-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-10 22:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/105099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/factorielle/pseuds/factorielle





	Lost Property

So Ronon's missing, presumed very much alive - but who knows for how long- and at the hands of Wraith that the Atlanteans have no way of finding. It sounds like a job for McKay if there ever was one, except that McKay hasn't been cleared from the infirmary yet.

John finds out why as soon as he gets there, and sees McKay laying face down on a gurney, eyes open but otherwise still, and way too silent. It annoys John a little, because hey, _resting_. While Ronon is suffering god knows what and everyone else in Atlantis is searching for a way to get him back.

Well. More accurately, everyone in Atlantis is waiting for Rodney to wake up and give them directions. Which brings him right back to Rodney just laying there doing nothing to make himself useful.

"Hey, McKay," he says, a little more loudly than necessary. "You up to saving the day yet?"

John is starting to think he went unheard when Rodney finally moves, twists his neck to look up at him. "Oh," he says, narrowing his eyes at John like a camera lens that can't quite focus. "Here you are. I thought I'd lost you."

Really, John thinks as he stares in horror at a beaming Rodney, it takes a truly exceptional individual to be able to both whine the whole city into a murderous frenzy over a splinter and deliver such an action movie heroine line like he's reciting last week's shopping list.

Not that 'exceptional' ever meant anything good, in his world. But here it does. Sometimes. Not now, though.

"Nah, I'm here. Safe and sound." And very disturbed by the happy smile on McKay's face, at least up until the man nods and lets his head fall back on the gurney with a plop. "Unlike Ronon," he adds meaningfully.

Rodney makes a face, which is not a good look on him. Not, John reminds himself, that anything is a good look on Rodney. Not even the new standard issue black T-shirts. Or the thigh holster he's become so damn efficient at strapping on and off. Not at all.

"Not here," Rodney says with a frown. "Where's the pretty girl?"

That must be Teyla. And Rodney really sounds like he's dosed up on more shit than a doctor should have access to at any given time.

"Teyla's fine too. Again, unlike Ronon." How in the world can he get Rodney to goddamn focus? They need him awake and well, not dosed out of his mind.

"I tried to tell Major" a confused frown, then "Major Something. The new one. But-" he pauses, then stops entirely and settles back down.

"But what, Rodney?" John asks, because it seems to be the only way to keep him from losing interest in the conversation.

"There was something stuck in my ass," Rodney says, wriggling said appendage, and John sees red. He has the time to think, irrationally, _Major Higgings is a dead man_, before the part of his brain that isn't completely addled from being next to McKay reminds him that Rodney got an _arrow_ in his ass, not anything belonging to a man of John's command.

At least not in the past few hours, that he can be sure of. Anything else...

Wasn't he going to stop thinking about that stuff anyway?

"I'm afraid you won't be getting much sense out of him for a while, lad," Carson says behind him. John doesn't jerk in surprise: a part of military training to be grateful for.

"You dosed him up pretty good," he reproaches mildly. "How long before he's coherent?" As opposed to humming softly and doing something that looks suspiciously like horizontal belly dancing. John grimaces and looks away.

"Is he ever?" Carson asks, snaps, making John look at him in astonishment. That's... not the sort of comment he'd ever expect from the man. Then Carson shrugs, mildly apologetic, and John thinks, _he's had a rough couple of months too_. Just like any of them, except more, and Carson isn't used to it.

And then there's Lieutenant Cadman, whose name failed to appear on the latest _Daedalus_ passenger manifest, which might very well explain why Carson's being so generally pissy. Not that it gives him the right to get rid of Rodney by getting him high when John needs him, dammit, because he's probably the only one who'll be able to figure out what happened to Ronon.

"How long, doc?" he repeats, in a tone that hopefully conveys the intended meaning of _don't make me ask a third time_.

Carson frowns and glances at Rodney, who's still again except for a finger that's tracing equations in the air. Which as far as John is concerned, is a big progress. Rodney and equations go together a lot better than Rodney and drugs.

"Give it two hours," Carson says, sounding a little deflated. "I'll call you if he becomes coherent any sooner."

That's... a lot longer than acceptable, but John knows better than to protest. He's just talked to Rodney, and there's no miracle to be had from him right now. So he nods to Carson and turns away.

Just as he's about to step out of the infirmary, mind already on the current location of the Daedalus (they might need it, and he just hopes Caldwell won't be difficult), someone calls "Colonel!" behind him. He turns around and it's Rodney, still high, still looking at John like he's the best invention since the chicken MRE.

"You're back," he says, blissfully, not demanding anything for once, and John can't help but smile back.


End file.
